The things she carried

I have a strange habit of collecting people. By that, I mean human figures. This strange hobby began in Philadelphia--in Chinatown, to be specific--with my friend Lauren. We had been the best of friends all through college and were about to split our paths in an awkward spread eagle across the country. I saw two little traveling Buddhas, Chinese-style, in a cluttered shop and bought them for us. Lauren, having been an avid collector of dolls for her entire life, was more than happy to add this smiling, pot-bellied little guy to her collection.

I can not emphasize enough here that I do not collect dolls. Dolls frighten me, even slightly more than birds. Well, ok. Nothing is more frightening than birds. I wasn't always this way, but an ex-boyfriend's phobia was so abnormally severe that I seem to have partially inherited it as a souvenir of our relationship.

Anyway.......

I thought that the Buddha was a nice little reminder of college, and of my friendship with Lauren. I started purchasing Buddhas in other significant places before major transitions: I bought one in Phoenix during one of the last nights that Andrew and I would occupy the same city (at least for a little while). I bought another in Sedona during my last trip up there with one of my gay boyfriends (no, not him or him....I know, I know....I'm a slut when it comes to the gay boyfriends!!). Another is from Cambridge (when I happened to stumble into a little hole-in-the-wall Tibetan shop while attempting to make a phone call and briefly escape the traffic sounds), and yet another is from an amazing trip to Cape Cod with some of my favorite people in the world.

After almost a year and a half in Asia, it appears as though I will be carrying an entire army back with me. I have three Thai-style Buddhas on my sacred altar, which are presided over by a beautiful Ganesha--Remover of Obstacles--and flanked by some water buffalo horns. I have a Buddha from Burma that is carved out of a special tree bark, which women grind into a powder and spread on their cheeks with a bit of perfume. Makeup, sunscreen, and moisturizer in one. I have THREE Buddhas from Cambodia--the Khmer-style Buddhas have full, mirthful lips and squared-off fingers and relaxed eyes and a sort of unrefined quality, and I could stare at them for hours. In my collection, one Buddha is sitting, one is standing, and one is reclining. They are carved out of wood and dusted with a gold coating, and they are hopeful and humble, just like the spirit of the place from whence they came. I have four Buddha heads: two small, one medium, and one GIGANTIC one that is awkwardly positioned next to my microwave. I have an apsara, a dancer, that sits in a corner and whose head is at the height of my knee when I lean over to dust her many bronze wrinkles and crevices and articulations. I have the heads (and necks) of two Karen "long necked" women from Burma carved out of a deep, thick wood. I have a band of musicians from Cambodia carved out of stone, a water puppet from Vietnam, and three spindly tribal figures from Bali that do not have clearly defined features, but appear to be deep in thought as their hands clutch their chins.

My favorites? The triad of friendly characters on my bedside table. A chunky little Ganesha with green pants, a small bronze Buddha with gold accents, and a pot-bellied Chinese-style Buddha from Vietnam that is carved out of stone. These guys have seen a lot. They've been silent witnesses to my various restless hobbies: crocheting, blogging, journaling, devouring books, and staring lifelessly at the television. They've watched the grief of this past year unfold, consume the bedsheets and my vocal chords, and then refold itself again neatly for another day. They've watched me as I organize the shiny sprawl of pictures and coins and tickets stubs from my various adventures into silk albums. They've seen my walls go from being completely barren to covered in treasures from my travels. They've heard me ask myself how I can survive another day. They've heard me ask myself how I will be able to leave this place one day.

They will all continue with me on my various journeys, safeguarding my memories, serving as reminders of the places where I have gone and the things that I have done all by myself**, with only these beautiful things for company.

*This is for Lauren, who inspired this hobby, and who, like the Buddhas, will also continue to travel with me throughout my life :)
*It should be noted that I was with Peter in Bali :)